


Salt, sugar, flour... they're very important for cake, I think?

by joonbuggiez



Category: A3! (Anime), A3! (Video Game)
Genre: A lot of them are LGBT+ because I love projecting, A mention of vomit, Coming Out, Filipino Hyoudou Juuza, Filipino Hyoudou Kumon, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Transphobia (Maybe one or two paragraphs), Non-Binary Hyoudou Juuza, Non-binary Arisugawa Homare, Non-binary Citron, Non-binary Mikage Hisoka, Non-binary Yukishiro Azuma, Others are mentioned but don't play a big role, Trans Hyoudou Kumon, mild bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29402622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joonbuggiez/pseuds/joonbuggiez
Summary: Juza, at a young age, knew that their father's cooking was amazing. Up until they were a little short of two years old, when their little brother had been born, they've never had their mother's cooking.Maybe because she didn't really know how to cook.She tried her best, so Juza thinks that maybe they should try their best to as well.
Relationships: Hyodo Parents, Implied Hyoudou Juuza/Settsu Banri
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Salt, sugar, flour... they're very important for cake, I think?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a day

Now, don’t get him wrong, Juza’s always loved their mother. Marisol Hyodo has always been an extremely hardworking woman, with her own office job when Juza was still a young boy. Juza vaguely remembers being brought to the office and having their mom’s co-workers coo over the baby. Her co-workers would all make fun of how they always had a constant grumpy face on their face, but Marisol always says that they took that from their father.

Their father… was a kind man, they think. He was a great chef, they were sure of that. They’d remember their mother complimenting his cooking, and the few times that they were allowed to taste a bit of the sauce from whatever cuisine he’d cooked— Juza remembers being blown away by how great it was. It was flavorful, and it was something that made them want to start wiggling in joy.

“Mari, look~” They remember their dad saying. “Juza’s like that one dog that we wrapped in a blanket.” 

While Juza had let out a giggle, only registering the words ‘dog’ and ‘blanket’, as well as their own name, their mother had scolded her husband with a smile on her face. “Don’t compare my son to that dog, Kuro!” She laughs, wiping something off of her baby’s face. 

“Why not? I thought that corgi was pretty cute, yeah?”

“Yes, yes, pero he ate his own poop!” She argues, while Kuro had let out a loud bark of a laugh. Juza also felt laughter bubbling in their throat and laughed along with their dad.

“You’re right, but it was still cute.”

“Look at what you’re doing to Juza!” Marisol says, distraught and she starts shaking her shorter husband by the shoulders. “You’re going to make him laugh at poop jokes!”

“Poop!” They had said, and their parents both freeze at the sudden word from their only child.

Kuro’s face breaks out into a huge grin, his wife, however, starts shaking him harder.

“Look at what you’ve done! A year into our son’s life and his first word is poop! Kuro!” Despite her words, she was shaking from laughter. 

“Poop, poop,” Juza had repeated that moment, before popping their lips and making spit bubbles.

“We didn’t record it! We didn’t get to record it—”

“It’s already too late, Kuro!”

“Mariiiiiii…” They remember their father whining and then cupping his wife’s face and pecking her on the lips. “I guess this is one of those moments we’ll have to manually ingrain in our memories.

“Awful.” Marisol answers dryly but pulls away eventually. “Like a mother could forget her son’s first words.”

“Mhm, I guess not. But I don’t plan on losing to you, my love.” Kuro hums softly and then returns to feeding Juza some of the sauce of whatever noodle he had made that day.

This was one of the latest memories that Juza had of their father. They’re sure that he had stayed a while after that, but he had disappeared one day. They hadn’t thought too much about it, at the time, as their mother had only said that their father needed to work.

That’s all the explanation they needed, but didn’t know why their father had to work so far away. They know their mom was also working and was also a pretty well-respected person in the office… at least, they think so.

Their mom had started cooking for them. Juza knew none of these foods— their father never let them taste it— but they didn't think it was supposed to taste like that. Then again, they were not even close to two years old, so they’re not really sure what to do about it.

They didn’t have any qualms with it at first, but then their little brother was born. Their brother wasn’t a brother when he was born, but he was a sister instead. Juza had taken it as their job to make sure that the baby formula that the bunso, a word that their mother would use so endearingly towards the child, would drink would be warm and well-shaken— especially after that first incident that she had poured in flour inside of the bunso’s milk bottle.

That’s when Juza realizes, at the measly age of 2, when the bunso was two months old, that the younger Hyodo would most probably like how their mother’s cooking tasted. So they’d offer to try and help her out when cooking, at least to make sure that by the time that the youngest Hyodo would be eating solid things like they both did, he’d be eating something really good.

Juza thinks that they’re one of the busiest toddlers in the entire world, but then again, they don’t really have a good comparison. All the kids in daycare avoided them, and all the kids in their mom’s work was too old and too mean, often calling both of the Hyodo siblings incredibly dumb. Maybe it might be Juza’s fault, they think, since they never chose to use their words— it was hard to communicate, so how could they?— but the older Hyodo sibling doesn’t understand why they’re calling the youngest Hyodo stupid for wanting to play with other dudes.

It’s not really bunso’s fault for thinking toy cars and action figures were cool. Most especially when they could throw them at people who were being mean to them.

Though, they had to drop that habit. Their mom says that other kids won’t like them if they continue doing that, especially if they’re going to start going to preschool in a few months. Juza struggles to argue that the other kids were the ones that were the ones starting all the fights, and of course considering the bunso was also not very capable of speaking. The child only let out a few incoherent but upset sounding babbles before their mom picked the baby up and cooed until he had calmed down.

Juza starts preschool and they absolutely hate it. They had thought that maybe, just maybe, that their bunso was smaller than normal people, considering that the bunso was still two years old. No, it was just that Juza was a head taller than every other kid their age, which made everyone avoid them like a kid with cooties. They were constantly avoided, and one of the other kids even started crying when they had approached them— even if it was just to give them their ball back.

For a whole year, Juza thinks that, hey, maybe the other kids were just mean. Thinking that, they just don't pay any attention to it— as much as it hurts. They just need to keep their head calm so they don’t start throwing knock-off Hot Wheels at their classmates.

The first day that they come home from preschool, Juza sees that their mom has made adobo. It was a Filipino dish, and that at least gives Juza some hope that it would’ve been cooked right.

Needless to say, it was not. Just from taking in one spoonful of it, Juza was already able to tell that this food wasn’t supposed to be this salty. “Ma?” They call out as they get off the chair. They don’t hear a response at all… which worries them so they go over to listen into her room.

Juza hears quiet sobbing on the other side of the door, and they just shut their mouth, going over to the pot where the food was, and tries to fix it on their own. They managed to, at the very least, make it so their face doesn’t want to implode, so that was a start.

Juza never brings this up to their mother, and of course not to Kumon. They just tried their best to water down or remedy the food that their mother would blunder and hope that she doesn’t notice that they know that she cries each and every time that she cooks.

A year later, a reunion is called between the sisters on their mom’s side. While the bunso was clinging closely to Juza, the two were just waddling around the park that the three sisters had gathered in. They vaguely know that their mother was the youngest of the three of them. With one of their titas, Jasmine, had a child last year. The child’s name was Muku, Juza thinks, but they’ve yet to see him. They know that their Tita Dalisay didn’t want kids either, despite being the eldest. 

Juza constantly hears their mom and Tita Jasmine teasing Tita Dalisay about it, but they constantly hear the eldest claiming that she doesn’t need kids or a husband to be happy. All she needs in her life is her little sisters being happy, and a whole lot of chocolates.

Juza is half-tempted to agree with that statement, thinking about protecting the bunso of their own family, and the bunso of their extended family.

That, and, well, Tita Dalisay’s chocolates melt in their mouth. Being the eldest, and maybe the one who could actually appreciate good chocolate, Tita Dalisay always gave them chocolate.

“Kasi we’re both the panganay, okay?” She had hummed to them at one point, just before explaining that ‘panganay’ meant ‘eldest child.’

Juza thinks that learning Filipino would be awesome, since they could speak their mind with most of the people around them would not understand what they were saying.

They find themself asking their titas how to say specific words, and they’d try to join their conversations. They’re glad that they’re learning so much about the language, and they’re even happier to find out that their mom would even teach them how to write in Filipino too.

The Hyodo family’s bunso was staring wide-eyed at the conversation before making excited noises when he sees their favorite snack— something that Tita Jasmine had brought with her. Juza loved it— but— well, the hotdogs with marshmallows were just a really fun treat to eat. They’d have their mom scold them quietly when they had tried to roast them over the fire.

Unfortunately, due to the bunso’s excitement from the fire, with his loud exclamations and babbles, their cousin had woken up. Muku had let out a few quiet sobs and had started flailing around in the crib he was in.

He sees Muku’s mom immediately rush to his aid, trying to calm him down and bouncing him gently in her arms. The youngest eventually starts calming down and Muku lets out a few quiet babbles before his eyes widen at the sight of his older cousin.

Juza freezes up when they realize that Muku had started bawling at the sight of them. Juza feels worry clawing up at their chest before they quickly turn around to hide behind their mother. They were clutching tightly at their waist while their bunso starts throwing a fit.

“Mumu shoun’t cry!! Kuya’s protect Mumu and-and me!” He had insisted loudly, face getting red.

He sees Tita Jasmine almost get mad at the Hyodo’s youngest, considering the three year old had started yelling at her son.

“Kuya?” The one year old sniffles quietly, latching tighter onto his mother. “Good?”

“Yeah!!!!” Juza’s heart is warmed by the display of affection of the Hyodo family’s bunso. They’re very glad to have someone like that in their family. “Kuya Jusha so good! Nice! Nice! Nice!” 

“Bunsoy, no need to yell.” Marisol says softly and then picks her youngest child up. “Min, pasensya, ha?” She tells her sister. “‘Di pa niya talaga alam ang mga manners…” 

Juza’s only vaguely aware that their mother is saying sorry for them. They’re… also pretty sure there was another language that was thrown in there, but he’s not sure what that is.

“It’s alright… I can’t fault Juza for looking the way he does, can I?” Tita Jasmine lets out a quiet sigh and runs her fingers in her son’s hair. “Muku, don’t cry, okay? Your Kuya Ju is very very nice. He wouldn’t ever hurt you, okay?” She reassures, and Muku seems like he’s on the verge of crying again. 

“So—sowwy, ‘ya Juju!” Muku cries out, squirming in his mother’s hold. “Mumu mean!” He bawls out, surprising Juza.

The eldest Hyodo goes over and gets away from behind their mother and goes over to reach up to Muku, patting his arm slightly to help calm him down. “‘Sokay, Mucchan.” They murmur. “‘M scary anyways.” They recount what their classmates had told them, and most obviously the reaction their cousin had upon seeing them the first time.

The Hyodo’s youngest looks like he was about to throw a fit— and he does. It takes a while for the cousins to all calm down, but they all eventually just fall asleep on one of the benches at the park.

Juza remembers waking up to their mother making them hot chocolate— and there’s a moment of fear that settles in their stomach. They take one sip and look at their mom, smiling slightly.

She had used cinnamon again, instead of choco milk powder.

Juza fails to mention it to their mother, and offers to drink bunso’s share so that his stomach doesn’t go hurting.

They’re thankful that their mom finally realizes that Juza has been looking out for them in terms of cooking and taking care of the bunso. At least— when they can. Marisol apologizes to the nine year old and promises that she’ll try to be a better mom to them, since they’ve been carrying so much weight when they haven’t even hit double digits yet.

“Ma,” Juza mumbles, patting her hands a little bit. They bite their lip for a moment, thinking about how to phrase this. Marisol almost interjects something, but they pat her hand again. “Ma.” He repeats. “‘Lam ko na… you’re trying your best. Sapat na po ‘yon. Okay lang na… make tulong-tulong.” THey insist, just wanting to tell their mom that it was okay to ask for help— though, they’re not entirely sure if they even used the right words for the conversation.

There’s a moment of silence between the two of them before she laughs quietly and envelops them in a tight hug. “Jube… kailan ka tumanda ng ganito?” She mumbles quietly, rubbing their back gently. “Nine ka pa lang, pero ang— mature mo na.”

Juza’s aware that their mom is talking about… age? It takes a moment before it sinks in that she’s saying that they’ve grown up so fast.

“Ma. I don’t… want you to have a hard time.” They murmur quietly. “Naghihirap ka na… gusto lang kitang matulungan. Family tayo. Ayaw ko mahihirapan ka kasi hindi ka nagpapatulong.” They say firmly and hug their mother tighter. 

Marisol doesn’t reply with words, but Juza thinks that the silence— the sudden tightness of the hug— was her own way of saying ‘thank you’ to them. 

“Labyu, ma.”

“Lab din kita, ‘nak.” She murmurs. 

They work in tandem after that. Marisol starts cooking in the afternoon when the 9 year old comes home just to make sure they were using the right ingredients. They had tried to have Juza actually chop up the vegetables and whatnot— but their clumsiness knows no bounds. Preparing the ingredients was the best they could do. This goes on really well until a few months later. 

The Hyodo family’s bunso had asked for all of them to stay a little while after dinner. The youngest was acting a bit fidgety— but then again, that wasn’t abnormal behavior. He kept on blabbing and blabbing about his day until they had all finished eating. 

“Uhuhm…” He had started and scratched at his neck. “I wanna be called Kumon now! And I’m gonna use ‘ore’ or ‘boku,’ like kuya does!” He says quickly. 

There’s a few moments of silence between them and Kumon looks like he’s about to faint. 

“Okay, Kumon. You’re still my little bro, and the bunso. ‘s long ‘s your feelin good.” Juza replies after they comprehend what was happening. Kumon seems to light up at that, but turns to his mother in anticipation. 

“Ah…” She sighs out. “Another son. I… I think I can handle that. Know that I’ll always love you, okay, Kumon?” She says quietly before going over to hug her really tightly. “Mama might make a few mistakes but pagbigyan mo ako, noh?” She buries her face on her son’s hair. 

“M-ma— you’re gonna suffocate him!” Juza chokes out and rushes over to their mom. 

“Haa—haa, I just wasn’t expecting this— I’m— shaken.” Marisol breaths out but pulls away. “Do you want a haircut, then? Boy’s clothes? New room decor? Uhm? uhm, what else would you need,” She murmurs under her breath. 

“Yeah, yeah!” Kumon says excitedly and starts bouncing on his seat. “Thank you— mama, kuya!” He moves over to hug both of his family together tightly. They all stay like this for a while, just taking in the moment and listening to their heartbeats and their breaths. 

“How’dja get the name ‘Kumon’ anyways?” Juza asks after a while, slowly pulling away to look at their little brother. 

“Oh! Oh— Mamon.” Kumon smiles brightly. 

“Like the cake ma makes?” Juza blinks at him. They’re at a loss because you can half name yourself over a food? That’s something people can do?

Kumon had let out an excited nod at that. “Yeah— and papa’s name’s ‘Ku’-ro, right? I want to be like papa, too! Mama and kuya always talk so happy about him…” He gently twists his own fingers anxiously. “That’s okay… right?”

Marisol lets out a wet sob at that and she goes and hugs her youngest son again. “You really did take after him!” She sobs. Though, this type of sob sounds… different. It’s very different from the last few times they’d heard their mom cry. 

“I-I’m sorry mama! I— please no cry!” Kumon warbles out and tries to wipe at his mom’s face. 

“No, no, Kumon, these are happy tears.” She reassures with a few small sniffles. “I’m so happy I can see your papa in you, okay?” She reassures.

“O-okay, mama!” Kumon nods before pulling her into a tight hug again. “Love you!”

“I love you both too, my sweetest boys.” 

“... love you too, ma, Kumon.” Juza murmurs and hugs them both to the best of their powers. 

Thankfully, a lot of Kumon’s classmates seem to take this well. Marisol seemed completely ecstatic finding out about that, as if she were worrying about the worst. However, Juza and Kumon didn’t see what was so bothersome about it. Kumon was just finally being himself, after all these years. Now he was allowed to go into his school’s baseball team, something he’d always been looking forward to this whole time. 

They didn’t know what the big fuss over everything was. Not until a few weeks later. 

“Hyodo, why wontcha pick a fight with me?” One of their upperclassmen calls out. Juza hates causing trouble, so they just try to push past the brute. “Huh? Won’t fight me? What, do you want me to come for your sister first?” 

Juza was never aware that they could get this mad, but considering this was for Kumon. Kumon who hadn’t done anything wrong— who was the better one between the Hyodo children. The one who was someone that was likable— Juza doesn’t know why he has to be dragged into this.

  
They feel something boil in their chest and they lift their fist, all while calling out a, “No way are you going t’pick at my brother—” They had said roughly—

The upperclassman takes a step back. Juza’s eyes widen as the other falls down the stairs.

Everything goes by too quickly. They hear the whispers of people, claiming that they saw the punch.

Admittedly, this day was extremely blurry for them. In retrospect, they’re pretty sure they repressed this moment— it’s the moment that changed their life entirely, after all. They were only able to recount it way later in their life.

They just remember the sick feeling, thinking that they betrayed their mother. They remember the warm feeling that their brother and mother found them by the riverbank. They remember the too wet and practically liquid cake that their mom had made, mixing flour with sugar, sugar with salt, and salt with flour. 

They vaguely remember laughing that day, trying to reassure their mother that it wasn’t that bad a mistake. They all ate the overly salty goop together, even if Kumon was both unaware of why Juza was even in detention.

Kumon hated the goop, but he’s a good kid. He ate it all with them.

It wasn’t fun when the 7 year old vomited all over Juza in the middle of the night, though. He was immediately forgiven, but Juza promises they’ll never let Kumon eat another pile of goop.

Slowly… very slowly, Marisol was getting more and more mindful of what she’s putting into her food. She is, by no means, the best at cooking… but it’s the love that’s put into the food is what matters.

There’s not a lot of things that went too bad with the next years— it was a bunch of things that were probably really bad, at least for Juza, and then for Kumon– but from an outside perspective, it was something that they could all manage and deal with it… at least, until they both arrived on their respective times in MANKAI.

Juza had gotten into MANKAI and actually worked past their struggles in… well, themself. It was a long and arduous task, especially because of Settsu, but they managed to get to what they want.

They had heard from Kumon on the phone, just after their closing night, that their mom wanted to invite Muku over to their house.

“Muku, ma wants you t’come over. I think she ‘n Kumon made a cake earlier or som’n.” Juza mumbles quietly and nudges their cousin slightly.

“Ah! Tita Mari’s cakes are all really good…!” Muku says excitedly, smiling brightly at Juza.

“Most of them,” Juza hums quietly. “I’m taking Muku, then. We’ll be back by the week’nd or s’m’n.” They murmur quietly to them. “Paalam.” 

“Ugh, there goes Hyodo and his speakin in a different fuckin language. You do know only you and kinda Muku can understand this shit, right, Hyodo?” Setttsu scoffs, crossing his arms. His face was mildly flushed. Juza knows this was because he was running around with a binder on the whole duration of the play.

Of course, they can’t show that they knew, since it wasn’t their business.

“Ah, Juza,” Omi calls out, getting the teen’s attention. They raise an eyebrow at him. “If it’s a Filipino cake… would it be okay if I ask for your mom for a recipe? I want to be able to cater to everyone’s palates and everything.”

“Hm, hm. Sure.” Juza nods. “C’mon, Muku. Ma’s probably waitin’ outside or s’m’n.” They eventually get to meet up with Marisol, who had exclaimed their incredibly embarrassing, yet all the more endearing, nicknames that she had for all of them. She brings them all back home after a beso-beso on each cheek on her children and nephew.

They all had cake, to which Kumon complains as ‘too sweet,’ but neither Muku or Juza were complaining… so Kumon was totally overruled in the end.

“Ma, Omi-san wants sum’o your recipes. Parang som’n som’n na gusto niya magluto para sakin pati kay Muku.” They murmur with their mouthful.

Marisol smiles at that. “That’s great to hear— naku, I have to print out so many recipes—”

“Ma, baka maoverwhelm siya.” Juza points out, glancing over to see Kumon pushing part of his cake onto their plate. “Onti muna ata.”

“Ah— right, right. We’ll get sylvanas, noh? Pati… ano pa gusto nyo? Buko pie, turon… gusto niyo din ng palitaw?” 

“Not palitaw po, please.” Muku clasps his hands together. “Uhm, I think I want Omi-san to try leche flan, if that’s okay?” He rubs the back of his hands as he asks this. 

“Oh! Staple Filipino dessert, right… pastillas… suman… ah- do you two also want me to print out a recipe for bibingka and rosita papaya?” 

Juza perks up at the latter part and nods slightly. “Opo. Please po.” 

Muku was agreeing with this too, clasping his hands together. “Yes po! I’d love that, tita!” He smiles brightly.

“Haaa? KuyA— if he makes some of that, you have to bring it home, pleaaaase?” Kumon begs and slams his hands on the table in his excitement.

“Promise.” Juza nods briskly before finishing up their portion. “Salamat, ma.”

“Salamat po!”

“Salamat mama!”

And it had become somewhat of a common occurrence for Omi to ask Marisol for recipes through Juza. It made Juza immensely happy that everyone in the company was enjoying Filipino cuisine. It’s one of their faocrite things to see in the dorm. Sure Settsu was being an absolute brat about some of the food— he thinks suman looks weird, and that the balut that Juza had brought that one time was absolutely disgusting— but overall? Everyone seemed to enjoy the cuisine.

One thing that Juza never expected in their life… was that they also eventually did that thing that Kumon had done when he was 7. It took them a few months of seeing Winter Troupe’s members mingling to realize that—

Some of the things that Homare said about gender made sense to them? And they saw how Hisoka sometimes just… did not matter about the gender of clothes, how ze didn’t seem to care about what other people were trying to put on hir. Hell, even Azuma didn’t adhere to any of the stereotypical roles that were put on them. They always just did what they want, being mature enough to realize that other people’s perception of them shouldn’t matter. 

It’s how they feel, is what’s true.

Juza realize that they aren’t a cis dude. They’re non-binary— that’s one thing for sure. They’re not exactly sure what their exact identity was— Homare had explained there wasn’t really a set number of genders, considering everyone was making label for themselves that often only they themself would be able to understand. Rose says that roses out understanding of gender wasn’t really something other people understood— that’s the joy of it. No one can police what you feel about yourself, rose said. 

Hisoka seems to have agreed with the sentiment. Ze says that even on the agender side of things, as opposed to Homare’s pangender, people still feel differently about how they perceive their lack of gender. Ze talks about how hir perception of hir lack of gender was just that… ze didn’t really care about how people perceived hir. Ze doesn’t think it’s because of hir amnesia, ze knows it’s something that ze’s felt even way back when. Hir feelings over gender just… ze just ruins it in hir head. Ze doesn’t care what pronouns are put on hir, as long as ze isn’t being forced to be something along the perceived gender role that other people have about hir.

Azuma had said they were queer. Azuma says that sometimes, not everyone wanted an exact label to them. Queer would just be something to use in place of anything under the LGBTQ+ community. They don’t want to be put in an exact category, they just needed people to know that, hey, I identify as this, and that’s alright.

Juza feels lightheaded with the revelation, and honestly? Things suddenly made so much more sense to them. It takes them a few days to gather up the guts to at least ask those three— and apparently Citron as well— to try and test out a few pronouns with them. Azuma had offered to try and get them some clothes— to which Juza had vehemently disagreed with in their pure embarrassment— but Azuma promises that nothing will be bought if they didn’t want to. It was just to test out what they felt with traditionally feminine clothes.

Which, in it’s own right, was already appealing. Sure, Hisoka reminds them that they don’t necessarily need to wear clothes from what was traditionally whatever the fuck, but— well, Juza’s already had their eyes on so many dresses before.

They just think they’re neat.

Homare and Citron’s taste, Juza realizes, are both very extravagant. Though, they were pretty much on a very wide scale of different. Homare’s taste in clothes were extravagant, expensive, and they clashed— but at the same time, they didn’t. They were mostly muted colors with one accent color.

On the other hand, Citron wanted to mix together as many colors as possible. Juza could see the appeal of that— at least, in some of their outfits, at the very least. He was all about flaunting all those different colors, though their air of pure confidence set them up so that it actually looked good on him.

Juza admires that sort of confidence, but they don’t think they can pull that sort of thing off.

Azuma leads them to a more secluded area of the store where there were more simple dresses and Juza tries some of them on. They’re… they’re so much more easier to movie in than skinny jeans and a too-tight shirt.

Juza takes maybe a few hours just trying out different types of clothes, with Citron and Homare being their hypepeople, and with Azuma and Hisoka giving their more honest ideas.

Juza… maybe gets one or two dresses, and a skirt that had a really nice candy design on them. They apologize profusely to Azuma and Homare, but the two insist that Juza should consider it as a gift of some sort.

Man, most people in MANKAI are really just nice like that, aren’t they.

Juza only wears it when they’re sure they’re alone in their and Settsu’s room, and they make sure to lock the door as they just whirl around in the dress that was a little too frilly. They honestly felt awesome wearing these sorts of things— sometimes, Hisoka,, Homare, Azuma, and Citron would all drink tea and eat sweets together, all while using the correct pronouns for each other and—

It makes Juza incredibly happy, knowing this.

They know that their family is going to be accepting— Muku came out as demiromantic a few weeks ago, which was well received, there was also Kumon’s second coming out, where he realized that he still REALLY liked boys— and they know that MANKAI was going to be accepting, considering the fact that Tsuzuru, Sakuya, Kazunari, Misumi, Taichi, Omi, and literally all of Winter Troupe were not only part of the LGBTQ+ community but were also part of the neurodivergent community as well.

In short, there’s nothing to worry about.

But somehow,they’re still worrying about what Settsu would think. They’re not sure why they’re so caught up over that, so they go to their mom to see what they thought about it.

“Just— I really want to tell Settsu something, I really do but I—” They pause, unsure of how to phrase this. Their mother shows their support by simply nodding, effectively telling Juza to take their time on this. “But thinkin of what happens if he doesn’t accept me is hurtin me a shit ton. It makes my chest twist and it makes me feel… really bad.” 

Juza stays silent for a little moment before speaking up again. “I… I don’t know why. All he ever does is fight with me— y’know that, ma. Nakakapikon talaga. As in. It’s— he won’t stop, even if ‘m tellin’ him to quit it. I mean it’s— it’s pretty good that we’re like… pushin’ each other to be the best but…

“I dunno. It just… my heart beats faster when I look at his stupid face and I get all light headed ‘n shit. Y’know na pasmado ako? ‘S like that. My hands get all sweaty and gross and when he grabs me so I don’t fall on my a- on my butt, he comments on how warm ‘n gross my hands were and— like. I dunno. That kinda stuck out.

“‘N like, sometimes ngiti niya talaga— pagnakikita ko gusto ko siyang sapakin. Like… I know we fight a lot ‘n stuff but it just… it’s sorta just a routine. We also just make sure the other guy doesn’t actually get hurt ‘nymore, or if the other gets made fun off we usually got eachother’s back and…

“I dunno, I guess I don’t want that t’change? ‘M probably bein’ really weird ‘bout it but… I just don’t want stuff t’change.” They grumble in their hands. “Bakit ganon. Nakakatanga.”

Marisol takes a few moments to realize what was happening before nodding slightly. “I feel like… this is something you should think about real hard, okay, ‘nak?” She tells them quietly before pecking them on the forehead. “These sorts of feelings take time to manage, so don’t push yourself to say anything until you’re ready.” She smiles at them.

Juza feels like she saw right through them, but doesn’t comment on it. “Thanks, ma.” They hug her really tightly. “Means a lot.” 

“Know that I’ll always love you, okay?”

  
“‘F course, ma.”

And it takes a few months for them to even really comprehend what was going on. They knew they were non-binary for a fact, but it was just making them more and more anxious each day passes.

It doesn’t help when Kumon insists that he wants to join the Autumn Troupe. Juza already knows there’s a lot of strain on Kumon’s heart from baseball but—

They really don’t think Kumon’s serious about it—

And they’re real worried that he’s just going to get worse—

Fuck, he is, they’re a bad older sibling—

But—

He pushes through. Juza sees him crying in ecstasy on the stage.

Kumon’s grown up so much, and Juza can’t feel anything but pride for this moment.

After an apology and so many words exchanged,, the two Hyodo siblings end up hugging each other and trying to waddle out of the lobby as they all slowly make their way back to the dormitory.

“Hah? Who’s that big tit chick?” Banri clicks his tongue as they get out the lobby. “Hyodo, do you have a sister or s’m’thn?” 

Juza looks up and then separates from Kumon to hit him upright the head.

“Oi! What the fuck was that for!”

“Jubebe-cheese roll, Kumamon, Mukuroon~!” She calls out before pulling the three smaller kids right up against her. “I’m so proud of you! All of you, my little boys all grown up!” She sobs and lifts Kumon up easily.

“Mama!” Kumon laughs a little bit but hugs his mother back. “I- I did it! Me and Summer Troupe finished the whole thing!” He breathes out.

“Hah? That chick’s your mom, Hyodo?” Settsu babbles in disbelief.

“Got a problem with that, Settsu?” They growl out.

“Settsu…?” Marisol hums and puts her son back down onto the floor. “Ah! OO nga pala, ito si Settsu. Gwapo niya talaga, type mo talagam, no, Jube?” 

Juza’s eyes widen at that. “Ma???”

“Diba sabi mo?”

“Ma. Hindi ko siya jowa.”

“Dapat gawin mong jowa. Gwapo niya.”

“Ma!” Juza groans, embarrassment filling their chest.

“What are you two talkin about.” Banri says, distaste evident in his voice. “No disrespect, Mrs. Hyodo, but I have no idea what you’re talkin about.”

“Ah, please date my son.” Marisol says with absolutely no remorse.

Banri chokes on his spit and he looks between Juza and their mom. “Hah? Why— is Hyodo that desparate to get ass? Has to get his mom to ask for him to— wait, are you askin’ me out, Hyodo??”

“That— I don’t know where my ma got that.” 

“Isn’t that what you were talking about months ago?” She asks, tilting her head slightly. 

Juza’s brain lags for a moments before their face grows warmer. “Ma. I was going to say that I didn’t know how to come out as non-binary to S- everyone in MANKAI.”

Marisol takes a moment. Everyone takes a moment.

“Oh,” Their mom breathes out quietly. “Oh, but you were describing me and your father’s relationship to a T, you know?”

Juza is suddenly aghast. So is Kumon, so is Muku.

“Kismesis…” Muku murmurs quietly under his breath.

“They were roommates… and they were kismesis…” Kumon gasps, devastated.

Chikage clicks his tongue in distaste, while Hisoka scrunches hir nose in disgust at the mention of that term. Kazunari, Taichi, and Itaru all burst out laughing. Tsumugi and Tasuku share a knowing glance. On the other hand, Tsuzuru seems terrified of the entire situation, while Citron seems delighted, going so far as to saying “Ah, a truly perfect kismesis, dayo~”

“This is terrible!” Kumon blurts out. “I— this is so bad!”

“Kyu-chan, don’t diss on true love!” Muku argues and holds his cousin by the shoulders.

“I don’t know what this means, but I’m not goin’ t’even ask.” Juza grumbles before just shoving Banri away. “That’s it. That’s all. Ma. Sorry for the misunderstandin.”

“Oh! It’s— you’re going to get together one day, so I don’t mind. I brought food to the dorms as a treat— I was going to make it a two-in-one celebration for Kumon getting through the performance and you coming out as gay but… it can still just be the first one.” She laughs a bit and pecks her child on the head.

“... nobody watched you make those, didn’t they, ma…?” They ask, with mild fear in their voice.

“... oh,”

Needless to say, a lot of the ingredients were mixed up together. Everyone still ate it, though, out of pure courtesy since Marisol had created a full course buffet for all of them. At the very least, they were edible, but the Hyodos knew that this time, their mom didn’t mess the ingredients up because she was sad, or because she was crying.

She mixed them up because she got excited for her children. Knowing they’re living their best lives in MANKAI.

That alone is enough for Juza, knowing that their family was finally healing.

…

Maybe they were going to ask Settsu out.


End file.
